Journey
by Thraman
Summary: A short story I wrote based on a kind of "spiritual" journey I made once.


Journey

I empathized with Shaun.

"Look mate...I'm not going to say there's plenty more fish in the sea...I'm not going to say 'if you love her then let her go', and I'm not going to say it won't hurt. But pssht...psssht...it's not the end of the world!" Ed attempted to comfort his distraught friend.

'What does he know,' I thought, 'you might want to go through it before you decide to give him a lecture.'

Suddenly the palm of an open hand slammed against the frosted glass of the Winchester's window followed by a moaning sound.

"We're closed!" John shouted at the staggering silhouette outside, but the figure remained.

Ed grunted, lifting the beer filled glass and downing it in one. I put his attitude down to the excessive alcohol consumption. I guessed his attitude must have been extremely hard to live with, but to view him from a distance its hard not to like him.

Shaun cheered up slightly after hearing Ed's somehow optimistic remark. I was happy for him, although I knew that Shaun had trouble ahead of him. I could only hope that the ending to this story was a happy one.

Thus, I began to reflect on my own situation. I guessed the ending to mine wouldn't be a happy one. That could be totally false, but as I'd often being told, if you're pessimistic and things take a turn for the worst, at least you're prepared for it. Rather sad, but that's life.

An hour and a quarter later and all Shaun's problems were resolved. I smiled. It was the nicest story I'd seen in a while. I turned to Ian.

"Well, what did you think?" I asked rhetorically, as the answer was inevitably "It was good!"

We got up and begin to walk out the cinema; I dug my hand into my pocket and produced a 'brick' by modern standards. The sorry excuse for a mobile phone rested uncomfortably in my grip as I held the power button down. A small wave of panic or fear swept over me. What if she hasn't answered me?

I waited a few moments and a jolt went up my spine as I heard the monophonic tone signifying a received text message. I was quick to open the message and let it sink in. It was from her.

I gasped at it slightly, so glad she hadn't forgotten me, and then realised that Ian was a few meters in front of me. I dropped the phone back into my pocket and quickened my pace to catch him up. We entered the big futuristic foyer of the cinema. It was already beginning to get dark.

People strolled aimlessly, waiting for their film to start. I saw old couples, married couples, friends and young couples, hand in hand. I breathed a sigh and felt my heart slide slightly. Where was she now?

"Gah...why won't my Dad leave his phone on." An exasperated Ian muttered as he hammered the pad of his mobile. "Well...we'll start walking I guess."

We heaved open the large glass door and tensed up as a wall of cold wind hit us. The city still bustled and lived like it was rush hour.

"Lets try catching a bus," Ian suggested, "If we have enough."

I nodded my agreement, but my hand was once again caressing the buttons of my phone, replying to her. She'd asked how the film was and I began to reply "it woz gud! And it had brnard and fran frm blk buks in it! Txt bk lv Joe."

"Who you texting?" Ian inquired, "Mr. popular being texted all the time."

"Hehe, its just Michael." I lied. I don't know why. I guess I thought he'd want her number, and I was always the jealous type unfortunately. Even though I suspected I need not worry.

We started over a large footbridge. Youngsters rode their bikes up and down the steady slope leading onto it as me and Ian forced ourselves up. I glanced to the left and caught a glimpse of a cloudy blue sky overcastting what remained of the coarse beach sand.

"If we have to walk back we won't be back before like eleven! Why won't my Dad keep his phone on!" Ian persisted, but I didn't take much notice. My mind was adrift.

I began to remember-

She passed behind me as I stuffed my winter coat into my small black Nike bag. Is my hair okay? Do my clothes look cool enough? I had considered everything and decided I looked as presentable as I could make myself. I rose and looked up to find the rest of my Drama class congregated around the green door, waiting to go to their next lesson.

They chattered in their groups, but I didn't really have a group in this class. I scanned the crowd for her, and by the lighting scaffold I found her.

My heart raced as I began to approach her, my head down facing the floor. What would I say? I had nothing interesting to say...but I had to talk to her.

I faced her and my mind went blank. She was such a pretty girl.

"Hi." I managed a slight quiver in my voice. I hoped she wouldn't notice.

"Hello." She gently replied.

"What lesson have you got next?" I asked abruptly, my brain instantly intervening. 'Oh, well done Joe, nice intro, and how totally interesting!'

I ignored myself and listened intently.

"Erm, English I think..." She replied.

"Oh...which teacher?"

"Ms. Butler."

"Cool..." I replied, nodding my head. "So, what poems are you doing? Heaney and Clarke?"

"No, we're doing poems from other cultures, it's really boring..."

"I can guess..." I found myself panicking, what should I say now?!

The bell suddenly rang to signify the next lesson and after a fleeting "bye" she left the room. I was left standing there, reflecting on the conversation.

'That wasn't very interesting. Would you have been interested?'

'I guess if it's someone I fancied then I wouldn't care how boring it was.' I argued with myself.

'But if you can't even find common ground then how will you ever get anywhere?'

'I will...I'll try...'

'Hmm...You've seen her laugh before Joe, right? That laugh? Why can't you make her feel like that? Personally I think she is kind of out of your league...'

I felt like a failure.

Ian and I stood at the bus stop in the cold as it began to rain lightly.

"Joe, over there...is that the one we want?"

"I have no idea."

"I'll ask."

Ian attempted to ask a couple of welsh people standing at the station but to no avail, as they were as you may have guessed, welsh.

"Excuse me; does this bus go to Penmaenmawr?" Ian asked the third man, the man simply shook his head. Whether as an answer to the question or the inability to understand Ian we'll never know, either way in the end we gave up hope as far as the bus was concerned and began a fast walk down onto a small path by the beach. As we walked along the path I saw many boats stranded in the sand as the tide had gone out. Ian pointed out a small red boat in severe need of maintenance.

"The worst comes to the worst we can always sleep in there!"

As obscene as the idea was it appealed to me. I just wanted to stop and think. I wondered what she was doing at that moment...revising knowing her. Exams were coming up fast and she worked so hard for them. She deserved whatever she got.

God, what I'd have given to be with her. I patted my phone through the pockets of my jeans and worries slipped into my mind again. What if I'm boring her with all these texts? What if she decides not to answer anymore? Or what if the text never got to her and got mangled in the airwaves or whatever?

I shook my head. I couldn't think like that. I'd turn my phone on soon...and then we'd see...

"God, my Dad." Ian groaned.

"Will you stop going on about your Dad? So his phones off, so what? When it gets dark and he wants to know where we are he'll turn it on."

"He's completely incapable of using the thing, why bother owning one? He's so bone idle." Ian continued to rant. I had to agree though; his Dad was an infuriating guy sometimes.

We walked in silence for a while before I broke it with a random quote from Shaun of the dead.

"There's no 'I' in 'team', but there is an 'I' in-"

"'Meat Pie', and 'meat' is an anagram of 'team'" Ian finished, "That was such a good film."

"Wasn't it just." I replied, "Wasn't it just..."

After half an hours walking we came across a residential estate. The houses looked like they were built recently, but rusty signposts littered the ideal microcosm. I saw a small child run into a nearby house. I longed to be in a warm familiar place as much as Ian, but still the joys of rambling Wales at nine in the evening alone with my thoughts and my best mate kept my mind off the cold.

Suddenly I reached for my phone. This was it. Had she replied? I pushed the power button in my pocket and slowly drew the phone out of its resting place; it awoke with a green flash and started searching for a network.

'Please get a signal' my mind pleaded with the device, 'Don't stop now...'

"I should have brought my skateboard," Ian began, "All the roads around here are smooth, and then again it's all uphi-"

I suddenly stopped listening. The only think I could hear was the high pitch screech emitting from my mobile. She hadn't forgotten me...

"Too...far...to walk," I heaved, half to let everyone know how fatigued I was and half to make conversation, which had become sparse on the last leg of the journey.

Rocks crunched as they scraped together under the pressure of my foot, causing both my ears and feet discomfort. Not long now.

"My name is David!" David chimed in. I was impressed he wasn't dead yet. His pack seemed thrice as heavy as mine. Either that or he was just being a drama queen.

It had been a weary day and a half; although stopping at the campsite had been fun it had mostly been a gruelling journey that was soon to come to a conclusion.

Suddenly the rocks beneath me gave way to short grass, and just ahead of me I saw the shop. We'd made it. Duke of Edinburgh bronze training expedition over and done with!

We jogged to the shop with the last of our strength and threw ourselves down on the rotting wooden benches. Panting and wheezing, I searched through my bag for a drink whilst the others went inside the shop.

Others came and were picked up by parents and eventually only Ian and I were left in the shop, bored.

"Hey Ian, where's your Dad at!" I mocked.

"He always manages to be late. Just deal with it." Was his bitter reply.

"I shall!" I walked out of the store and my heart leapt in my chest when I saw Laura, Emma and...her...sitting at one of the benches.

'You might want to start conversation if you plan to take this anywhere' I told myself, and I wanted to, but still...if I messed up? Said something wrong? Was boring? Somehow attracted negative attention from Laura or Emma?

Suddenly I didn't care and strolled towards her. As I grew nearer and her distinguishing features became more apparent, the fondness and curiosity for her inside me grew.

'Who is this girl? This girl that hath caught Joe's gaze so?' I asked myself. Before I could even begin to form a reply I found myself beside her on the bench.

"Hello!" I began.

"Hello!" She replied a fraction less enthusiastically, but with that smile...

"H-how was your walk back then?" I choked.

So I talked to her for about ten minutes before her Dad arrived and the two girls left. I was left with Ian and the conversation still fresh in my mind. Ian's Dad arrived eventually and as I lifted my heavy leg into the backseat of the car, I could still hear the soft soothing words she spoke a few minutes before, and that night I heard them in my dreams.

I thought I saw the same small rocks beneath my feet as I forced myself up a small bank and onto the first solid concrete I'd felt beneath me in about half an hour. My feet felt like heavy weights. We had been walking for well over two hours.

"Do you realise that we've been here nearly a week and haven't really done any revision at all?" Ian said, "We are so going to fail our GCSE's."

"Bet I can fail mine worse." I mocked.

"Oh yeah? You wanna start somethin'?" Ian said playfully, pushing me to the side. I responded with a weak push back. My strength was all but gone and there was still a fair walk ahead of us.

I looked ahead. It was almost pitch black by now, but the sky was lit by the blazing red and yellow lights of the continuous stretch of passing cars that rushed by and the static suspended balls of light held high by lampposts. In the far distance I saw a tunnel leading into the silhouette of a mountain. Upon its summit I could barely make out the arms of sleeping trees, lit by the glare of an ominous moon.

The wind picked up as we trudged wearily along and we were almost blown over by a wall of wind as it chased after a convoy of monolithic trucks.

I had replied to her text. Apparently she was watching films and drawing. I could visualize it clear, thanks to my vivid imagination, and the fact that I wondered what she was doing a lot of the time.

It was sad really. I really didn't need this in my life now as well as GCSE's, nor did I deserve it. Well...not to my knowledge. I began to take notice of the people driving their cars. Men driving home from a hard days work. Couples returning home from their holidays. For a while I considered myself.

I felt that what I ultimately wanted out of life was not the same thing most of the people my age wanted. What I wanted was...special. It was a need you couldn't satisfy with a six figure income or a detached house on the edge of a modern housing estate.

The footpath lead us away from the busy motorway and began to leads towards the edge of the mountain. Ahead of me I saw traffic cones and signs and a shiver went up my spine at the thought that maybe we'd have to turn around, walk fifteen minutes back the way we came and find an alternate route back to the other side. Luckily it was just a small hole from some pipe maintenance.

We passed around it and soon our view of the rows of blinding lights was obscured by a wall of rock held up by gargantuan mesh nets. I prayed they would hold, and they did. Soon we were walking along a make-shift balcony overlooking a narrow beach and a cluster of large boulders against the balcony wall.

"Hang on." Ian called, "I need to take a pee."

I turned away and began gazing at what was without the light pollution, a clear night sky. I closed my eyes. Against the black of the night I thought Ian wouldn't notice. For a moment everything seemed so tranquil. A quiet breeze flickered by my ears and the patter of Ian finding how high up a wall he could urinate was obscenely soothing.

For a moment in the emptiness of my mind I saw her again...

The sound of hurried people rushing too and fro was slowly drowned out by the hypnotic thud of my heavy feet on the glistening green floor. Just ahead of me I saw the large double doors, and beyond that the final door.

A tacky paper sign hanging by a stretched piece of blu-tack on the wall read "Art dept." I followed the direction of the arrow next to it and pulled on the cold iron bar of the double door. Instantly I smelt paint and a mixture of glue and wet sandpaper. Another two steps and I was outside the door of room T12. She was in there. My heart began to race a mile a minute, maybe I should just not go in? Say I forgot about her? Girls like it when you play hard to get, or so I heard.

I rationalized. There was no way I could not go in there. I needed to see her.

I pushed open the door and strolled in; slowly I turned and saw her and a few others. It sent a jolt through me. Instantly I headed over to her, my eyes glancing away so it didn't look as if I was staring, which would have its obvious downsides. I pulled an unoccupied green stool from under the long line of desks and placed it across from her. Tossing my bag to the side, I dropped into the seat and said "hello" before I was even facing her.

"Hello." She replied just before I was sitting and looking at her.

She looked incredible as always, her eyes glistened behind the rims of her glasses and her gorgeous long brown hair fell to the bottom of her back. She laid her calm eyes on me and a smile crossed her small lips, its beauty amplified by the blush in her cheeks and the gentle curve of her cheekbones. I felt my chest tighten and unexpectedly the smallest gasp escaped my mouth.

"Okay?" She asked, a look of genuine concern on her face. Concern. She was bothered about me. I'd come a long way.

"I just came to show you that drawing I did..." I replied meekly. I began to rummage through my bag, taking longer than I needed so I could get my breath back. I produced a tatty blue book that I had entitled "The mysterious book of things." And flipped the pages to a pathetic drawing I had sketched of a cartoon character. Then only reason I'd drawn it was to show her, for an instance I began to wonder..

"Hehe! That's pretty cool!" She said, her smile widened as she saw my sorry excuse for a drawing, "Here are mine..."

She dropped a few A3 sheets on the table and slowly I observed each of them. They were amazing. Every line seemed carefully crafted without a single flaw. I couldn't imagine anyone drawing something so perfect.

"They're amazing..." I managed.

She looked at me and smiled again. If I hadn't been sat down, my legs would have given way beneath me. I smiled at the sight of her smile.

"Well...I can't stay. I told Ian I'd go to the shops with him...but those are really good drawings." I stumbled for words.

"Thank you." She uttered in a soothing tone, "I'll talk to you later."

I smiled again, picked up my bag and managed to navigate my way out of the room without tripping over anything or fainting.

As soon as I stepped out of the art department I sighed and a wonderful feeling swept over me. I was so happy I couldn't contain it. I ran swiftly down the corridor to try and tire myself out, but my energy lasted all day.

"I can think of like...five ways to pronounce the road we're staying on..." Ian began once we had resumed walking. "The Welsh make no sense."

I merely smiled in agreement, although I knew by now that he couldn't see the expression on my weary face. My feet ached as we passed the halfway point on the balcony. The night air was getting colder. I dug my hands into my pocket, and suddenly remembered my mobile. Had she replied?

I turned the phone on in my pocket and held my breath. Time seemed to slow down, either that or I was walking slower. I was. Ian was far ahead of me before he turned around to tell me to hurry up.

I waited and waited...and then let out a sigh.

'I must be wasting her credit,' I thought, 'Oh well...I got a few texts in there.'

This thought didn't satisfy me at all though. I wanted to hear from her. To know she cared enough to keep me company in this cold unfamiliar place. What was wrong with me? Why am I acting like this because of a girl? I began to wonder again...

"Having said that they do spell taxi in a cool way," Ian continued, "Ha-ha, 'tacsi'...classic."

I found the energy to smile one more before dropping to my knees and letting out a painful rasp.

"Stop for a bit," I instructed, "I'm knackered."

Ian dropped down beside me and began to toy with his mobile while I massaged my wrecked leg muscles. It wasn't far now. It wasn't long now. I was over halfway there. In another two days I'd be back home and could talk to her again. Wonderful.

I rested my head against the jagged wall of rock behind me and closed my eyes. Suddenly I felt a great weight lifted off me and I had to force myself to open them every now and then to avoid drifting asleep. Even so I found my thoughts as clear as dreams.

I pushed the brass door handle down forcefully and kicked the door open with my knee. With the remainder of my strength I threw my green school bag across the room. It hit the radiator and slid down, leaving a long white streak where a zipper had scraped against the newly coated blue paint. My legs collapsed under me and I fell back onto the sofa. What a shit day, and to think it was all because I hadn't talked to her much. What was becoming of me?

Seeing her had become a vital part of my day. An addiction almost. Like a drug I depended upon with serious side effects and it kept getting worse. Suddenly I had an idea.

She'd hurt her leg playing Hockey today, I could send her a text to see how she is! I struggled to find my phone in my back pocket and began tapping away. For a second I recalled the trip me and Ian took to Wales. Things had gotten worse since then.

At about seven o'clock, having not emerged from that room since I got home, I turned my PC on and began talking to my friend Tom on the internet.

"How was your day?" He asked.

"Pretty crap actually!" I replied.

"Why?"

"The usual...I hardly saw her all day."

"Same reason as ever."

"Yeah...unfortunately."

"You've really gone tit over heel haven't you?" I could sense the sincerity in his words. "I reckon you should tell her."

"Nah...it won't get me anywhere."

"How do you know?"

I was preparing an answer when suddenly another window flashed up. She was online. And she had begun speaking to me.

"Hello!" She wrote.

She was talking to me. She had actually started a conversation with me!

Suddenly I considered something. For the first time I ignored her and talked to Tom first.

"Tom..." I began.

"Are you listening?" Ian said.

"Yeah, I'm listening." I replied. I wasn't listening at all. I had quit listening long ago. We had nothing left to talk about and I was happy observing the gentle twinkle of the stars and considering the vastness of the galaxy as opposed to hearing Ian talk about some entirely unfunny comedy set in a hospital ward.

After resuming walking for another ten minutes we had left the balcony behind and were once again bathed beneath the milky light of a streetlamp. Clearly I could see the motorway coming out the other side of the mountain and racing by into the distance and around a corner, out of sight. We were close to the house. Suddenly I heard it. My phone. A text message!

'Don't get too cocky,' I told myself, 'It could be mum or Michael or Harriet or anyone...why play games Joe...you know it can't be her. That'd be too perfect.'

It would be to perfect. I'd met an angel, so why shouldn't miracles exist?

I pulled out my phone, the display read '1 message received.' Time seemed to pass slower than it ever had before as I waited for the message to be displayed. It was from her.

I gasped and Ian threw me a curious glance. I didn't waste any energy on paying attention to his questions, all my attention was focused on replying to the text. Suddenly my whole day seemed complete. I looked out towards the sea and heard the sound of waves gently lapping against the shore. Everything seemed so...right. Suddenly I felt a renewed appreciation for everything. If heaven existed, I was suddenly there.

I tapped backspace to clear the line. What a stupid thing to suggest. I'm only fifteen! It couldn't be true. The prospect seemed so unreal, presumptuous and childish in a way...still...

I began to type again, finishing the sentence this time and pressing enter. The words flashed up onscreen as they were sent to Tom's computer.

"Tom..." It read, "Am I in love?"


End file.
